


The Bogeyman

by englishrose2011



Series: Ryan Exchange AU [1]
Category: Human Target (TV 2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishrose2011/pseuds/englishrose2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after Junior became Christopher Chance, a woman client a former assocate of the old Christopher Chance comes to the office.<br/>She is convinced that she is being hunted by a lethel hitman named Guerrero</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on Human Target which belongs to Fox.It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of Fox. 
> 
> Thank you Movieexpert1978 for your help, support and beta reading.

The Bogeyman 

Part One 

Also spelled bogieman, boogeyman or boogieman is an amorphous imaginary who is a non-specific embodiment of terror.  
The incident with Guerrero and the old Christopher Chance can be found in the story “Christopher Chance.” 

2006 (Present Day) 

The door on the elevator closed behind Winston, as he left, and the newly named Christopher Chance, leaned back, in his chair, his hand hovered over the whiskey bottle, and then dropped away. 

He looked round the warehouse thoughtfully, and shook his head, this had been old Chances home as well as his office and yet there was nothing here, not photographs, nothing personal, nothing to mark it as a home, it was as if the man never had a life outside of his business. What a way to live?  
But then ruefully Junior found he had to concede the point that his own home was no different. He had brought it through a third party to hide it from the Old Man, picking it out online, and had even paid for an interior decorator to dress it, using money from an off shore account, one less link to the house. He had thought he was buying himself a home, all he was buying was bricks and mortar. 

Only, even that was lost to him to him now, he had been too smug, yeah to smug and too arrogant to think that he could kept that place a secret from Guerrero, he should have known better. 

It had been a hell of a shock to find Guerrero standing in his house, in a house that was supposed to be so way off the grid it was invisible. 

More surprisingly, Guerrero a man with a reputation for never hesitating on a hit, had actually entered the house without a gun in his hand, Guerrero it seemed had come to talk. 

They had talked briefly, and he had made it clear to his partner that he wasn’t going to give Katherine up, Guerrero was annoyed, but had shrugged, throwing his hands up, turned to walk away, there had been that split second of hope in Junior that their friendship would be enough for Guerrero to keep walking, but then he had remembered just in time who he was dealing with. 

Sitting there he could remember all too clearly how they had fought, hell he still had the bruises to prove it. He had sparred with Guerrero before, and seen him fight but he had never fought him in earnest. He had known that although he was taller and heavier than his partner, Guerrero was no walk over; he was faster with his punches and deadly with his kicks. The only way he beat him was by getting up close, so that Guerrero didn’t have a chance to land his kicks by crowding him, then using his greater strength to haul Guerrero, off his feet and smash him down onto the table, which had collapsed under him. 

That was all the time he had needed to be able to snatch up his gun, his partner hadn’t pleaded for his life, he had just told him to get on with it, for Guerrero it was open and close, he had tried and failed, and was going to pay the price with his life. 

While he was focused on Guerrero, that he had felt Katherine put her hand on his arm, she had just exchanged a look with him, and he had seen the shake of her head, without saying a word she had told him the killing had to end, and he found himself lowering the gun. 

But now forty eight hours late, he knew it wasn’t her that had made the difference between him killing and not killing Guerrero, the truth told he hadn’t wanted to kill him, he was his friend, they had been through too much together for him to want to end the smaller man’s life with a bullet in the head. 

But the problem was simple; to leave Guerrero alive would be to show a weakness in front of the one man that could manipulate that weakness to his own ends. On the other hand if he allowed it to look as if she had swayed him, it could be then be written off as a one off anomaly. 

So he had ordered Guerrero to his feet told him to turn his back, he was sure that Guerrero still thought that he was going to shoot him, more than likely thinking that he couldn’t look him in the face and do it, he had seen the smaller man’s body tense for the bullet. 

He had hit Guerrero hard across the back of the head, needing to make sure that he wouldn’t wake up any time soon. When he had tried to make Katherine go back into the bedroom, to collect her things, he had been surprised when she had pushed past him and knelt down by his partner. It was clear that she was scared of Guerrero, she must had seen and heard enough to know that he had come to kill her, but all the same she knelt down by his side and for a second her hand had hovered over his unconscious body, as if she was trying to get up the courage to touch him. 

“Katherine, we have to go.” He told her, but she ignored him, and gingerly pulled Guerrero’s hooded sweatshirt down at the neck so she could check his pulse and then his breathing. It was then she looked up, and Junior understood the inner strength of this woman. It didn’t matter to her that Guerrero had been out to kill her, the fact that he was unconscious, and hurt was enough to make her want to help him.

“I need your help to get him onto his stomach,” when he had hesitated she had added. “You didn’t want to shoot him, but he could choke if he’s left on his back, do you really want him to die that way,” she paused then added “I thought not, so what are you waiting for, help me.” The last two words where snapped at him, and the next thing he knew he was helping roll Guerrero onto his stomach, as Katherine positioned the smaller man into the recovery position. 

She had looked up at him, and without knowing it had, echoed Christopher Chance when she had said. “No one deserves to die.” 

It was then that he had realized where he had to take her, the one man that could help keep her alive long enough to get to the bottom who wanted her dead and why.

Instead he had got her and got Christopher Chance killed and lost the briefcase that had been the center of all their misery.

It was then he had felt something nuzzling his boot, and glancing down he saw Carmine, reaching down he petted him, and then scooped the pup up into his arms, holding him close. The night came and the warehouse grew dark, but Chance, because that was his name now, cradled the pup in his arms, his only connection with women that he had started to love and had lost too soon.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Twelve months later

Winston sat in his office, his laptop open in front of him, and a mug of coffee in his hand, content in himself as he mused over that last twelve months; it had now been a year since he had resignation as a cop and joined a man called Christopher Chance in the field of personal protection. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that it had been all sun shine and flowers in their partnership. Chance was a difficult man to get to know, and Winston was harboring a deep rooted suspicion that his partner might have a death wish. 

The man was brave there was no doubting that, but he risked his life in a way that if he was SFPD would kept the department shrink in business. But this wasn’t the SFPD, he had to keep reminding himself, and different rules applied. 

Winston was no man’s fool, Chance or whoever he was before he took that name was a professional assassin, and they had been adversaries the first time they had met. But between them the cop and the ex-assassin, had a unique set of skill, when they approached a job, it often gave them the upper hand, which so far had been successful. 

Had he ever in the twelve month regretted their partnership? The answer to that would have to be no. Even if in the early months there was always a knot in his stomach when he saw Chance with a gun in his hand, wondering if the man was back slipping, but he learned that Chance never killed because it was convenient, he only did it as a last resort. He understood Chance’s need for redemption and to some extent shared it.

Chance needed it to pay back for the lives he had taken as an assassin, and Winston was honest enough to realize that for him it was the need to it try and made up for the people that he couldn’t save when he had been a cop when they had needed justice and all he could offer them was the law.

One thing that Winston had quickly realized was that he wasn’t a field operative, he had been a good cop, but this was something different, and a man that didn’t know his limitations very soon ended up dead, in the world that Chance worked in. 

He knew it was a touchy subject in the making but he was looking round for someone to join them, and was quietly sounding out a few recently retired ex-cops, that he knew. It was just a matter of time before he found the right man, and then he would have the delicate job of trying to talk Chance into the idea and the man didn’t trust easily, trust had to be earned with him.

Just then he was brought back to the present by a knock on the door of his office, and he saw an older woman stood there, her smile was warm and unlike many women of a certain age she hadn’t made any attempt to color her hair. He got to his feet, and shook hands “Mrs. Travis, I am Laverne Winston we spoke on the telephone,” 

Winston indicated the chair, “Please take a seat.”

The woman sank down in it, and made her comfortable as she looked round. “It’s very different than I remember it?”

“You’ve been here before?” Winston asked.

“I use to work with Chris as his computer expert,” she gave a small smile, “he disliked new technology, but I taught him to accept it. It is because of one of his former cases that I am here.” She gave him a rueful look, “I always knew that would happen one day. The principal in the case was a very wealthy man with enemies. Chris managed to beat the two assassin’s sent after him, one was called Junior the other was Guerrero. They were the top hitters for a broker called the Old Man.”

Winston couldn’t help a small smile, to hear this gentile older lady using terms like hitters and brokers. 

She must have understood, because she smiled back, “it also brings a whole new meaning to the word cleaners.” 

Winston laughed, now this was a client he could get to like. 

“Coffee,” 

Martha Travis nodded “I would love one.” 

Winston got up and made her a cup; Martha paused and took a sip, then looked back at him. “Junior was a good looking blond, but was what I called the King of Winging it. His plans where always way out there, he once, you won’t believe it he actually shot a man holding a homemade bomb because he knew there was a load baring wall just along from him, and he would have time to get behind it. He was bad enough, but Guerrero, Chance, my Chance called him and excuse the language, a frigging enigma. He said that Guerrero was a sociopath and that made him more dangerous: when he focused on a target he never let go. Then three months after the Pucci job, I got to meet him in person.” She tried to suppress a shudder, as she remembered all too clearly what had happened next. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

2004

For once in his life Christopher Chance was lost in thought, when he entered his office, he currently was between jobs, Martha was working on the computer, and………that was when he saw the total fear on her face, it stopped him dead in his tracks. 

He started to turn quickly and then stopped as he saw the gun pointed at his head. But more than that he saw who was holding it. The fact that he hadn’t pulled the trigger the minute that he had walked in was a minor miracle, Guerrero wasn’t known for hesitating. 

If he wanted you dead, you died, plain and simple. So why Christopher Chance mused was he still alive and breathing, and it wasn’t because Martha was there, that wouldn’t have stopped Guerrero. 

“Guerrero,” he acknowledged the man. 

“Seems I owe you, if it wasn’t for you, I would be dead.” The assassin said.

“You don’t owe me nothing,” Chance put in forcefully “we all make mistakes.”

“Pity that was the only reason you’re still breathing,” Guerrero gave a slight shrug “have it your way dude.”

Martha knew with clarity that he was going to kill Chance, she blurted out “You owe him your life,”she flinched as Guerrero glanced at her “so Chris can call in the favor at any time right.”

Chance cut in quickly, “either of us can call in the favor” he didn’t want Guerrero looking at Martha as collateral damage. The number of people that knew the smaller man by sight was few, most people never got to live beyond that first sighting. 

“One life one favor,” Guerrero lowered the gun, but it was still at the ready as he moved towards the door, “pick the favor well dude,” then he was gone. Only then did Martha slump into her seat.

“Did he hurt you?” Chris was immediately at her side.

“No, scared the hell out of me, but he didn’t hurt me.” She shook her head, “I just pray you never need that favor.” 

0-0-0-0-0-0

2006

“There Mr. Winston is my problem.” She lifted her head a little higher, “I was out with my grandchildren the other day at Fisherman’s Wharf, just a family day out. My daughter was just trying her camera out, and took this,” she pushed a photo across to him, “and you can imagine my horror when I saw this picture, more exactly who was on it. The man holding the Starbuck’s is Guerrero.” Winston looked at the picture carefully; the man was looking straight at the camera. Of course this was deceptive, at that distance the picture was taken, he could have been looking at anything but the client. But they couldn’t take that for granted. 

“Have you approached the police about this?”

“No,” Martha said levelly, “I have no desire to committee suicide. My Chance died a year ago, as far as I know that favor was never cashed in, so I need to know why he is after me now, he has to understand that I respect the deal we made, and that I will honor it.”

“You think that kind of animal is going to respect that.” Winston said, allowing the disbelief to color his voice.

“That I have to believe.” She suppressed a shudder. “I need to locate him, and make sure that message is delivered.”

“Isn’t that like poking a snake with a stick and hoping it’s not going to bite?” Winston said looking thoughtful.

“My only other option Mr. Winston is to wait and hope that he’s not going to come after me.” She reached out for the photograph, but Winston held it back.

“Can I borrow this?” 

She nodded, as he said. “I’ll speak to Chance, and see what we can do to find this man.” Winston was very conscious of the look of sadness that flitted across her face as she thought of her Chance. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to find you.”

Martha nodded “I followed Chris’s rules, and a few of my own.”

She got up and tapped the photograph, “don’t give it to anyone, because he will find out I gave it to you. I know you perhaps don’t believe me, and that I make him out to be a bogeyman. But believe me he’s what I said and more.” 

“What did you do or rather Chance did to get this favor.” 

Martha turned to the new speaker, and her hand flew to her mouth, the man stood there was the blond assassin, Junior. 

Winston, did the introductions he didn’t miss much and had seen her reaction to his partner, “Mrs. Travis, this is my partner Christopher Chance. Chance our new client, Mrs. Travis.” Then as a way of warning adding “she knew Christopher Chance.”

Chance closed the distance between them and accepted her hand, his smile was warm and boyish, charming was what she would have thought him if she hadn’t know who he really he was.

“You were just explaining what he had done.” Chance said pleasantly. 

Martha answered “My, Chance was protecting a principal, and during the gun fight, he had set some booby traps, Guerrero walked into one of them, and was critically injured. Chance had him and his partner at gun point. He told me that even if the man was Guerrero he couldn’t let him die. He let Junior, take him away. That was the favor that was owed. Now Chance is dead.” She paused “My Chance that is, he might think that he doesn’t have to honor it.”

Chance shook his head, “If Guerrero has made a deal he will keep to it.”

“A matter of honor to him.” Winston said, his tone showing what he thought of the idea.

“Well for as long as it suits him.” Chance said then added seeing the look of worry on her face “But this is straight forward, he’s got nothing to gain from not keeping to it.” Chance paused frowning “You don’t have contract out on you do you, a few thousand.”

“No,” Martha said quickly.

Chance shrugged and smiled “then you should be okay, if you have a contract out on you then it might, be the time to worry.” 

“You know him, how well?” Winston asked eyeing his partner carefully as he cut in. But before Chance could answer. Martha picked up her bag. 

“You will take care of it?” Martha asked.

“We will look into, and do what needs doing,” Winston assured her, as she shook hands with both of them, her hand lingering longest with Chance. 

“All I want is him to know that I respect our deal, and that I mean him no harm.” She knew how stupid it sounded, but it was all she could say.

Chance escorted her to the elevator and then turned to her, “You worked for Chance, I take it there were surveillance photographs, and you know who I am.”

Martha, drew herself up, and looked him straight in the eye, “I know you were Junior, Mr. Chance. Also I know that you know the reason that Chris let you go, better than I do. I gave Mr. Winston a picture of Mr. Guerrero, it was taken accidently by my daughter, it’s been wiped from her camera, and the one Mr. Winston has it the only one. I could have lied and said that I left a copy in a safe deposit box, but I am too old for these games. I mean no harm to him, as ironic as it sounds. I just need to know why he was there. You were his partner.” 

“We’re not exactly in touch,” Chance said ruefully. “But I will take care of it.” 

“Thank you.” 

When Chance returned he saw the way Winston was eyeing him. “I was a cop for 25 years, Chance, I know things,” he raised a hand “I know you don’t like to talk about your old boss, last month when you cut loose and got drunk, you told me what happened when your partner caught up with you. How Katherine stopped you killing him.”

Winston paused “more correctly why you didn’t want to kill him.” 

Chance nodded, “I am not going to turn him in, Winston, and I owe him that.” 

“What can you tell me about this enigma,” Winston tapped the photograph, not sure if he was going to get a reply. 

“He’s …” Chance stopped “complicated …………. he’s the ultimate professional, but he’s got a dark side to him that even my old boss is careful around him. You see Winston what other people threatened, he’ll actually do.

Chance lapsed into silence, he was a realist, he had done everything he could to distance himself from this past life. He had cut himself off from his old friends and contacts, avoiding anyone that could tie him to his old life. 

It had been a year and Guerrero hadn’t come, he could try to convince himself it was because his ex-partner respected their friendship, but then he would always remind himself this was Guerrero, but still he wasn’t that far under the radar that Guerrero couldn’t have found him if he wanted too. Now this client had him on a direct collision course with him, and he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do when they met. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

10.00 am the next morning.

Winston watched as the bank clerk removed his safe deposit box from the vault and laid it in front of him. He nodded his thanks, waited for the man to leave before he unlocked it. The note book he took out had a black cloth cover, the writing inside detailed with dates, and names a catalogue of contract killings. He leafed through quickly, and soon the name Guerrero appeared, he whistled softly if half of this was true, the man had been busy, as he paged through he could see that the name Junior soon became linked to it. 

The book made sobering reading, he knew a couple of friends in homicide that would be very interested in it. But that would mean giving up Chance, because give the reaction Mrs. Travis had when she saw Chance, he was pretty sure that Chance was Junior, and he couldn’t do that. Instead he took out his own note book and copied out a couple of dates and contracts, linked to Guerrero’s name, and decided to look into them, and see what he could find out about the man.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Chance put out a few feelers, but hit a brick wall, those that knew Guerrero where not willing to talk, the only one that he thought would talk, had backed off, quickly waving away any offers of money with a “you can’t be fucking serious,” and turned and all but ran away from him. But that was enough Chance knew to get Guerrero’s attention, and then settled back, one of the kindest things that someone had once said about his ex-partner was that he sat like a spider on a web and felt for the slightest tremors on it, and then went in for the kill. That was what he had just done, set the web vibrating. Now he just had to sit back and wait. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Two days later

It was late evening and Chance and Winston had finished a catch up session, and had settled in for a late night beer, before they parted company for the day. 

Chance reached down and scratched Carmine behind the ear, the young dog made a huffing sound and padded into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later chewing on some Chinese, it was then Chance felt a chill run through him. It was stupid when a dog snacking on leftovers should do that to you. But it did when the leftovers where in the refrigerator, no one had removed them. Sitting forward he started to reach for a backup gun, but it was already too late, he saw Winston’s eyes widen, and he knew that someone had stepped out of the kitchen behind him. 

Slowly he turned to face them, knowing that his gun was too far away from him to reach. 

“Guerrero.” His ex-partner was leant against the door jamb of the kitchen a carton of taker way in one hand and chopsticks in the other, but his gun was in plain sight tucked into his waist band, and Chance knew that any move he or Winston made would be countered. 

His ex-partner voice was soft and level, and all that more chilling for that, “Been a while dude.” 

Chance nodded “a year, give or take a month.” The fact he was still alive meant that his old friend wanted to talk, just then he saw Carmine, make his way slowly across to Guerrero, the dog had a habit Katherine said of pissing on people. If he did it to that particular pair of boots he was going to be one dead dog. 

“Carmine,” he called the animal back, but the pup just sat down in front of the newcomer, head tilted back as far as he could, and appeared to examined him critically and waited for more Chinese when it wasn’t forthcoming the pup made a huffing sound again, and turned and walked back to Chance.

Guerrero shook his head, “One hell of a watchdog dude, almost as good as him.” 

Winston knew better than to react, he saw the ghost of a smile on the newcomer lips and knew that he was just out to needle him into doing something stupid. 

Chance said “I think we should talk,” he paused “I didn’t think killing grannies was you style.” 

If Guerrero was insulted he didn’t show it, “She’s a forensic computer analyst, she made some enemies, who want her dead, and are willing to pay for it.”

“How much?" Chance asked, and Winston leaned forward just about to cut in, when Chance added. “It’s okay; I am just interested what the going rate for an innocent woman is these days.”

“$10,000, guilty or innocent, we don’t judge dude.”

“What did she do?”

“The lady is digging where she shouldn’t, her employer’s asked her to check on some loses on one of their franchises, it was more a PR exercise than anything else.” Guerrero gave a ghost of a smile, “problem was the lady is too good. She has a meeting with her supervisor on the 14th; someone doesn’t want her to make the meeting.”

“And you would know this why”, Winston put in.

“Because they tried to hire me. Once I saw who the target was I got interested, and their computer security might be good, but it’s not as good as they think.”

Chance took pity on Winston when he saw the puzzled look on the big man’s face. By way of explaining he said “No one can do this corporate crap like Guerrero, he’s got a way with computers.” 

“You expect us to believe that an……” Winston took a breath, “that you turned them down.” He had done some research into this man and he couldn’t see an animal like Guerrero turning down money, and he still wouldn’t put it past the man to try and get in with them just so they could have some personal time with their client.

“Dude, if I wanted her dead she would be dead now, and not taking her grandkids to fisherman’s wharf.”

“Her daughter took some picture, you were in one of them.” Chance reached out to the top draw, and then halted as he saw Guerrero tense, only someone who knew him as well as Chance did could see it. So he made sure that he moved slowly and that he drew the picture out carefully, and then held it up.

“That’s seriously not cool bro.” 

At that bro, the last knot of tension eased from Chance, he was the only one that Guerrero ever called bro it looked like he would live through the meeting at least, “I’ve got some 12 year old Scotch, interested.”

At the nod, Chance got up and got a glass for him, and poured a generous measure that was another indication that the worse was past them, if Guerrero was working he would have refused the drink, or gone for a soda. 

Once he had accepted the drink, Guerrero sank down into one of the chairs and his foot went up on the coffee table.

“Make yourself at home why don’t you.” Winston said sarcastically, but it was like water off a ducks back. 

“You’ve been babysitting her.” Chance said with a grin, “change of pace for you, how did you like being on the other team.” 

“Forget it Chance. I don’t swing both ways.” Guerrero had all but snarled at him, but Chance had seen the slight curl of the lips, which for Guerrero was like someone rolling with laughter. Then he was all business again, “When I wasn’t interested the broker went low rent, so far he’s employed four hitters to take her out.” 

Winston was half way out of his chair when he realized that Chance wasn’t moving, instead Chance just took a drink “how many are left alive.”

“Dude this is me you’re talking too.” Guerrero said, as Chance grinned at him and then leaned forward to top his glass up.

Winston settled back in the chair, it seemed the threat for the moment had been neutralized but for how long.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Martha Travis it's time to face the bogeyman in person in the shape of Guerrero.

Two days later

Martha had just finished her breakfast, smiling and chatting with her daughter; she was trying her best to think of this as nothing more than a normal day. But she knew difference, today she would present her evidence to Sarah Freeman, her supervisor, she had no doubt in her mind that a court case would follow. The ramifications of what she found in the company accounts would lead to serious criminal charges being leveled against senior members of the firm. It was obvious to her that only high level manipulation of data had allowed the thefts to go undetected.

Her cell phone rang, she looked at the caller ID, and saw it was Chance, “Good morning Mr. Chance,” she stopped in mid-sentence, “of course come straight over, I’ll give you the address… Oh you already have it, how…never mind. I’ll see you in twenty minutes then.” 

She ended the call, “Mom are you okay.” Her daughter asked, concern written across her face. 

“I never told Mr. Chance, my address, it was safer that way, it was one of the rules that Chris,” she added “my Christopher Chance had told me, to do if I was ever dealing with Guerrero. So how did he know?”

0-0-0-0-0

When the car pulled up at her house it was Winston that got out and went she answered the door he said. “We need to talk Mrs. Travis, and we’ve brought someone with us, I don’t want you to worry about him, Chance has it all under control.”

Puzzled she stepped out on the porch, and then took a quick breath and a step back. 

“Mr. Guerrero, it’s been a while.” Her voice has a tremor to it, but Chance was impressed, he had seen seriously connected men, break down into jabbering idiots when they met Guerrero. The lady was holding it together well.

Guerrero was at least a foot smaller than Winston, which should have given her all the reassurance that she needed, but it didn’t because she knew all about him from Christopher.

“Nice dress,” the remark from Guerrero totally threw her, as he stepped past her into the house and made a beeline for the breakfast table. 

“Mr. Chance, this isn’t what I expected……” Martha frowned “and how did you know where to find me?”

“Dude, finding people is something I am good at.” Guerrero said as he took a roll, and a slice of cold ham, from a plate on the table and began to eat. 

It was then she noticed that Junior, no Chance, was dressed in a suit that wouldn’t have look out of place in a boardroom or a law office. He gave her a smile, “You said that the supervisor, err Sarah Freeman is that right,” seeing her nod he carried on, “said you could take a friend, with you, I need you to take me to that meeting.”

“Why, Sarah’s been nothing but supportive of me, she arranged this meeting.”

“Lady, the contract on your life hit the market two days after you talked to her. Do you really think that’s a coincidence?” Guerrero said.  
“You came for the contract,” Martha asked.

“One debt, one life, remember…” He didn’t finish the sentence, Chance cut across Guerrero,

“He’s the reason you’re still alive, he’s taken out four hitters already, now it’s time to end it. I need to get into her office so that I can bug it”

What Chance had said about him taking out the hitters made Martha look at Guerrero in a new light, the man was an immoral killer, that was true, but he took his word seriously as her Chance said he would. But she was still uneasy having him this close to her family. She would have to trust Winston that Chance had Guerrero under control and that he was truly on her side. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

The meeting with Sarah Freeman went as Chance expected, he played the part of the lawyer to a T, his job was to rattle the woman and see where it lead them. Once out of the office and clear of the building he circled round with Martha to a utility van, climbing in, and they took a seat.

Guerrero was monitoring the feed from the bug in her office, he nodded to them pushed his headphones back and then turned the feed up. 

It was Sarah’s voice, “She had a lawyer with her, and he’s already talking about going to the DA on this.” Sarah paused “I thought you had taken care of this, why the hell is she in my office, you promised me that she would…..” the woman’s voice stopped as she pulled her temper back. “Remember I won’t be the only one, and don’t think that that rich bitch of a wife is going to protect you. It’s her money remember.” The phone call was cut off abruptly. 

Guerrero turned to Chance, “I think it’s time we had a talk with Faulkner.” 

Chance nodded his agreement as he said, “In the meantime, I think we should move Martha and the family.”

“No bro, we need control of the area where Faulkner’s crew is going to hit for that we need a decoy.” The slight smile that Guerrero gave Martha as he said it did nothing to steady her nerves, he was enjoying this. 

“Chris always told our, his clients that they had to be prepared to put their lives on the line, to get their lives back. I am prepared to do that. I trust you.” She looked Guerrero straight in the eyes, “all of you.” 

0-0-0-0-0 

Three hours later

Drake’s Bar

Winston pulled up along from the bar when, “Took your time dude.” Winston’s head snapped round as the back door to the car opened and closed and Guerrero took a seat, leaning forward the smaller man added “Faulkner arrived around forty five minutes ago.”

Chance looked at the bar, “then it’s time we had a talk with him,” he started to get out of the car when he saw Winston doing the same he said. “You best stay put, the guys in there will have you pegged as a cop, and the minute you walk through the door.” 

“I am your back up, Chance, you……...” he broke off as he heard Guerrero snickering and says something that he didn’t catch. “Okay what’s funny; Chance what’s he finding so funny.” 

Chance ignored his question, “We’ll be in and out fifteen minutes at the most, if you hear anything bring the car round fast. Don’t worry; we’ve handled situations like this before” 

“That’s what I am worried about.” Winston said under his breath as he watched the two of them cross the road to the bar, the last thing he needed was his partner back sliding, which given who he was with, was a possibility, so waiting until the door to the bar closed behind them he got out and followed them, if Chance thought he was letting that killer watch his back he was dreaming. 

0-0-0-0-0

Guy Faulkner, was reading the racing form, when he sensed someone and looked up, and pulled back quickly, “Junior it’s…… been a while.” He added, trying to keep his voice normal, as he saw that Junior wasn’t alone, if there was one man that scared him it was Guerrero, Junior would just kill you, but Guerrero, would make you suffer first. 

Chance got straight to the point as he sat down. “You’ve been recruiting hitters for a contract on a woman, name of Travis. I want to know who’s put the contract out on her”. 

“Sorry I don’t know anything about it.” Guy said, swallowing hard, knowing that he was lying to one of the men that knew the truth.

“You hired four hitters when I turned it down.” Guerrero told him, “You should have hired better.”

Guy looked at Guerrero in horror, “you killed them.” 

Guerrero gave a slight tilt of the head, “Dude what you think?”

The big man blanched, forcing himself to turn away from Guerrero and look at Junior, “You have to understand Junior if I start giving out peoples name I’ll be finished, I am a businessman it has to be confidential…….…..I am in hard place here.”

Guerrero cut in smoothly, “Your daughter the one that’s working on Foreman Street, is she still driving the white Nissan, it’s been a while, an old car like that, regular health hazard.” 

Guy’s face fell, “Junior, please you can’t let him. Heather, she… pleases.”

Chance leaned forward, “All we need to know is who put the contract out and how many more hitters you put on her, then you can walk away from this job.” 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Winston was pleased when he entered the bar there were enough people there for him to feel confident in taking a stool at the counter, and order a beer. Casually he looked round, Chance was sat at a table with Guerrero facing a big man who was now mopping at this face with a large hanky chief, and his body language told him the man was scared. So this was Guy Faulkner the broker, the man was clearly agitated he was looking from Chance to Guerrero and back again, as if he couldn’t get the words out quick enough. 

Neither Chance nor Guerrero looked at him as they passed him at the counter, after a slow count Winston drained his beer and followed them out of the bar, when he reached the car Guerrero was gone and Chance was sat behind the wheel. The moment he got into the car, Chance was on him. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

Winston snapped back at him. “Watching your back, Chance, you really think that I was going to trust him. For god sake, he was sent to kill you, remember.”

“Guerrero didn’t kill me then, so he’s not going to kill me now.” Chance looked past him and out of the window, refusing to admit his former fears about Guerrero to Winston. 

Like a dog with a bone, Winston, wasn’t about to give up. “Are you sure that you can trust that animal.” Winston saw the way Chance tensed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Don’t call him that Winston; he doesn’t deserve that…….”

“He what?” Winston’s anger flared, “You have to be joking …”

“Who have you been speaking too?” Chance put in levelly, as he glanced across at him.

“People,” Winston said.

 

“I doubt it,” Chance paused “Okay keep your sources, but remember one thing, you don’t want to piss him off, the last person to do that ended up as dog food.” 

Winston nodded, and then did a double take as he got a sinking feeling, “You're not using that as a metaphor are you.” 

Chance didn’t reply, leaving Winston deep in thought. Finally the bigger man broke the silence, “did Faulkner confirm the name Guerrero got from the wire trace.” 

“Yeah he did.” 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Two nights later

The three men considered themselves good at what they did, Faulkner had a reputation of only using the best, and they reveled in that feeling of being the best. Faulkner had been his usual tight mouthed self when he had given them the contract. When pushed he had said that there had been a couple of other hitters on the contract, but they had failed, he had then buttered them up, offering them more money. 

It was now that Leo was beginning to wonder if they shouldn’t have asked a bit more about what happened to the other men. Because the minute that they hit the house to kill her and anyone else there, it had gone seriously wrong, people where waiting for them, and not cops. 

Mickey had thrown in a stun grenade while he and Billy had kicked the door down. Yeah that should have worked only the target who had been openly seen a few minutes ago at the window was now gone, and they had been met by armed response. 

Billy had gone down fast in the confusion that followed, and then Mickey, he had managed to get a bead on one of the bastards that had ambushed them. Only before he could fire, he had been gunned down, bullet to the head and chest, then all Leo could think of was getting the hell out of there, but he knew with certainty he wasn’t going to make it, when a bullet knocked his leg out from under him.

As fast as it had started the gunfight was over, Chance checked on Winston, the big man was alright, his face a professional mask, hiding whatever he was feeling about what had gone down, he would talk with him later. He looked over to Guerrero; the smaller man was shaking his head, as he joined them to look down at the two surviving members of the hit team.

“You okay.” He asked Guerrero.

“You bro.” 

Chance nodded, and looked down at the two injured killers, “amateurs,” Guerrero drawled and brought his gun up. 

“Hell no.” Winston snapped as he grabbed for Guerrero’s gun arm, he might have a foot on Guerrero in height, but he found himself on the floor trying to draw breath round the pain in his stomach, the muzzle of a gun against the back of his head.

“That’s seriously not cool dude, respect personal space.” Guerrero’s voice was a low, rasping growl. 

Chance was perhaps the only person who knew why Guerrero didn’t like to be touched, and now wasn’t the time to go into that, all that mattered was getting through to him. 

“He didn’t mean anything; come on man let him up.” Chance said, holstering his own gun and focusing all his attention on his old friend.

“He…… touched…… me…… bro.” 

The tension in the words made Winston suddenly pushed his pride aside, and the indignation of being floored by a man a foot shorter than him and pounds lighter, he knew with sudden clarify that he had made one hell of a mistake, and that there was something else going on with Guerrero, that had nothing to do with the wounded men. 

“Winston, apolo…..” that was as far as Chance got, because Winston beat him too it. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, laid hands on you, I mean,” Winston surprised himself by actually meaning it, and it had nothing to do with the gun to his head, time seemed to stand still, and then the gun was moved, and he got slowly to his feet. Looming over Guerrero he could feel the tension that was thrumming through the smaller man, he had seen it before while he was a cop, and he knew how close he had been to getting killed. 

Guerrero tilted his head slightly, “Respect personal space dude okay.”

Winston nodded, “I’ll remember that,” and he felt some of the tension slowly ease, and Guerrero’s attention switched back to the wounded men as he stepped away from him. 

Chance looked down at the two men, “You’ve got two choices, we load you in your car, and you get the hell out of the city, or you just disappear into the bay.”

Billy cradle his shattered arm to this chest, as Leo answered “You’ll let us walk? “There was disbelief in his voice. “How do you know we won’t be back to finish this.” Leo tried to bluff it out, he considered himself a hard man, and had a reputation to protect. If Billy saw him back down he would be in trouble. But these men had him worried he had seen the smaller man take the bigger man down without breaking sweat, and he sure as hell thought he was going to pull the trigger on him. Who the hell were these guys? 

Leo saw the blond, shake his head, “you might think your boss is a dangerous man, but this guy is worse,” the blond, must have seen the look on his face because he added. “Because if you do come back Guerrero, will make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.” 

“Guerrero,” Leo said the name and suddenly believed, the man was the bogeyman, you never saw him coming, you could run and you could hide, but the bastard always got you in the end. “Yeah, we’ll disappear; you’ll never see us again.” His words where directed to Guerrero, it was suddenly very important to make him understand he meant that.

Twenty minutes later Leo and Billy where heading out of the city as fast as they could go, with Mickey’s dead body in the boot of the car, they would worry about that later. 

0-0-0-0-0

The next day under the protection of Chance and Winston, Martha Travis gave her statement to the DA on the criminal activities of the Haywood and Vine Corporation.

0-0-0-0-0

Julian Murphy Estate

Four days after Mrs. Martha Travis gave her deposition to the DA; the President of the corporation Julian Murphy, got home late and poured himself a drink, his wife would nag him if she was here about drinking too much. Only she had gone home to her mother once the scandal broke, so what the hell, he took the drink back in one large gulp and poured himself another. How could it get any worse his company had just taken one of the hardest hits possible, between the IRS, and the Department of Justice, he would be lucky not to face jail time. 

All his plans of taking Travis out of the picture early had come to nothing, and his lawyer had just told him that Sarah that conniving bitch, was going to turn states evidence on him, and was ready to spill her guts about the contract he had took out on the woman. 

But before they took him down he would make sure that Martha Travis suffered, she took his life he would take what she loved. Tomorrow he would get in touch with Faulkner and the bastard better not foul up again he…. Julian frowned as he entered the study, the overhead light didn’t come one, it was then he saw the dark figure seated at his desk. 

The person reached forward and switched on the desk top lamp and it was then he saw the gun. 

“What do you want, get out or I’ll call the police.” 

The gun lifted slightly, “Not going to happen dude.” 

“What do you want, then, I don’t have any money they…..” He came to a halt, as the gunman said:

“Do I look as if I am after your money, seriously dude if I wanted your money I would have been hacking that off shore account of yours in Bermuda.” 

“So what do you want?” Julian demanded “I am going to court soon.” 

“You won’t get to stand trial.” The man took a white envelope from his pocket and laid it down onto the desk and pushed it across to him with a gloved hand.

“What’s that?” Julian asked, pointing a finger at it.

“Why don’t you take a look?” 

“If that’s my resignation from the company, you can forget it.” Julian pulled the letter from the envelope and began to read it, his face drained of color, and he looked back at the man in horror.

“It’s your suicide note.” The man said in a matter of fact way, and then he added. “Your organs will have started to shut down already, and in another five minutes, you will be dead.”

“No.” Julian cried out, his legs give way, he hit the floor, he heard the man come round the side of the table, and somehow managed to tilt his head up to look at him. When he tried to speak he found it hard to form the words, and then the light died in his eyes and his head dropped and his body slumped onto the floor.

Guerrero knelt down, checked for life, there was none, the poison in Murphy’s system would easily be found, that didn’t matter it was a suicide the police would get suspicious if they didn’t find it. Picking the letter up, he put it back into the envelope, now he had Murphy’s finger prints on them, and placed the envelope into the dead man’s inside coat pocket. Guerrero removed the poison bottle from his own pocket, and carefully pressed the dead man’s prints against it, and put it next to the whiskey bottle as he left the house. The body would be found the next morning by the housekeeper, he glanced at this watch; Faulkner would be his usual haunt by now, time to have a chat with him. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Five days later in the warehouse

Martha Travis got out of the car, her family followed her into the building, when she got out of the elevator she saw Winston, she crossed to him and shook hands, “I must thank you for everything you’ve done for me. If it hadn’t been for you, and Mr. Chance and,” she paused on the third name, “him, I would have died.” 

She reached in her purse to pull out her check book.

“You don’t owe us.” Chance said as he came down the stairs from his apartment, his smile was warming and friendly, “it’s the least I can do for my predecessor.” 

It was then she saw Guerrero, her heart came up in her mouth, even though he had helped her, he still had that effect on her, she guessed he always would, he was picking at a box of noodles. 

“I was just thanking Mr. Chance and Mr. Winston for saving my life, and I also have you to thank Mr. Guerrero, so thank you.” 

He crumpled the carton and tossed it onto Winston’s desk, “One life, one favor remember.”

She watched as he hefting a fishing tackle box off the floor and then to her horror she saw his attention turn to her family. 

“Nice family.” He looked them up and down critically, and then turned on his heels to walk away.

Chance and Winston wouldn’t accept her money, and that went against the grain, so she said to them “If you ever need any help with IT give me call, and I’ll do my best to help you,” then added “It’s the least I can do.” 

Guerrero paused, looking over his shoulder at her. “Another time Mrs. Travis, I’ll be in touch” and then was gone. 

Martha’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Chance, she hadn’t meant to include Guerrero in the offer “I didn’t exactly expect that. Oh hell, I am back where I started.” 

“Don’t worry, he’s an expert hacker, I can’t see him calling in the offer any time soon.” Chance said pleasantly. 

Martha just wished she could believe him. 

Four months later

Winston was enjoying a take away with Chance, Guerrero had passed on it, a first, saying that he had an appointment with a cleaner. When Guerrero was out of earshot, Winston added “Nice to know he has some standards.” 

It was then he had looked at this partner when Chance had nearly choked on his food, as he laughed and said, “Not that sort of cleaner.”

Winston paused with his fork half way to his mouth, “cleaner,” and then realized “I should have known,” and shook his head. 

He had made the conscious choice not to look at any of the jobs that Guerrero did with Junior, he didn’t want to see that in his head every time he looked at Chance a man that was now his friend and his partner. He had thought it over long and hard, calling himself a coward for not facing the truth, but in the end this is what he could live with and that was all that mattered. What he had did have a problem living with was Guerrero, when he had tried to get rid of Guerrero on countless occasions, telling he wasn’t wanted, but the man always came back. For Chances sake he had tried to put his feelings on the back burner, so he could at least try to make it a working environment, or would have if Guerrero had done the same. The man was a grade A1 pain in the ass and seemed to live for the opportunity to make life difficult for him. 

Chance topped up both of their glasses again as Winston decided to come clean, “Okay I have a confession to make,” when he saw the look on Chances face he added “when Guerrero started to become more… hell Chance, he became a fixture, he’s a freelance and the only one we employed I decided to dig a little deeper into him.” He threw up a hand, “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have done that. But I couldn’t let it lie, I tried to follow him a few times, but I always lost him, and no one was willing to talk, beyond telling me what a cold blooded bastard he was. I still have some good friends from the job, and one of them is a retired FBI agent, we worked on the Morrison serial killer case together. So I decided to talk to him, he’s a good profiler.” When he saw Chance open his mouth he added “I needed to get a handle on Guerrero.” 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Last week

Retired Agent Andy Carter got to his feet and shook hands with Winston, and they collected their drinks and went to a quiet corner booth.

“You peaked my interest Winston, so what can you tell me about the unsub.”

“Unofficial unsub, I can only tell you what I’ve observed and what I’ve hear, bear in mind It’s hear say.” 

Carter took a drink, “Okay tell me about this Mr. X”

“Okay, I’ve known him for a few months, but his reputation is bad, I am talking a heavy hitter, he’s totally ruthless and has a capacity for pure violence that is, hell Al it’s frightening.”

“You’ve seen him work, how does he approach things.”

“He’s very focused, and he has no problem with having to do what needs doing to achieve his objectives, if he has to shoot someone there’s no hesitation, I’ve heard that he extracts information and takes a pride in his work.”

“Does he get off on it… like a sexual high from it?” Carter asked “The torture?”

Winston took a deep drink from his glass, this was one area he didn’t even want to get into, the idea of Guerrero having sex or getting sexually turned on was something that…. He tried to suppress a shudder. Then replied, “No, it’s strictly business with him, there is no emotion there.” 

Carter nodded, “When he interacts normally does he consider the feelings, the emotions of the people he’s dealing with?”

“He can be damn calloused, he’s brutally honest, but he does have sense of humor, but it’s on the dark side, oh and he likes pissing me off. I am damn sure he gets off on it.” Then Winston added quickly, “not sexually I mean.” 

Carter couldn’t help a smile at that then asked. “Is that everything?” 

“He’s really loyal to a mutual friend,” Winston felt he had to put that in, because give him his due Guerrero was loyal to Chance. 

“You want my official view on this Mr…...,” Carter shook his head when he couldn’t draw a name from Winston he continued “bearing in mind I have never met the man.”

“Yeah.” 

“A sociopath,” he put a hand up to stop Winston from interrupting him, “a second hand diagnostic it’s not the best way to do these things, but your Mr. X ticks enough boxes for me to how can I put it,” He gave a smile and shake of the head, “in layman’s terms he’s a card carrying member, only his loyalty is a stray away from the usual guidelines.” Carter looked thoughtful, “this is a man that will not just cross the line, but will stroll over it frequently, and he will kill if someone gets in the way.” 

He paused thoughtfully, “Winston if this man is active, you described him as a heavy hitter, which means that he has killed, we need to bring him down, I take it there is nothing to connect him to his work, otherwise the police would already be on to him. But if you know of one job, we can nail him on, and we can put him away, and once he’s off the street, I am sure that people will come forward and we can get him the needle. 

Carters’s eyes burned into Winston, as if he could force the information out of him. 

But Winston wasn’t going to give Guerrero up, it was tempting, but that wasn’t why he had this meeting he wanted to know what he was facing, and it ever came to a point where Guerrero was too dangerous and he had to shoot him, he wanted to know that that was because there was no other way. 

“We, Al, remember were all retired now.” 

Carter gave a shrug, “One a cop or a fed always a cop or a fed.” He took a sip of his drink, “I heard you were asking around about some of the boys, what was that for?”

“I was thinking that I needed a third to help with….. What I am doing now. But it seems that place is taken.” 

“You don’t seem too happy about it.” Carter said with a smile.

Winston picked up his drink, “Don’t start me on him.”

“Perhaps, I already have.” 

0-0-0-0-0

The warehouse

“Don’t worry Chance I never said anything that would link to him. But I think you know what I am going to say.”

“Guerrero is a good friend, Winston. He’s is trying you know, he doesn’t take contracts anymore.”

Winston frowned on him and opened his mouth, but Chance beat him too it.

“I am not saying that he doesn’t take side jobs, and personally I think it’s better you don’t know about them. But he is trying.” 

“Right,” Winston breathed, it would be a cold night in hell before he believed that. But for the moment that had to be enough. 

0-0-0-0-0

Later when Winston got home, this cell phone rang; he glanced at the caller id, and frowned.

“Al, what do you want?” Winston glanced at his watch it was late, as his friend said.

“I got talking to a few of the boys; I think we might have an answer to your problem. I think we should talk.”

The end


End file.
